Hold On
by biteme4realz
Summary: "Claire!" He had crouched down next to the bed.  I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for me to open mine. Adrenaline suddenly twisted my stomach. Yeah, he wasn't happy with me. - A Quil and Claire story, set ten years after the end of Breaking Dawn
1. Not a Nun

_Author's Note:_

_This is a working draft. Normally I publish my stories already completed but this time I'd like to see how the reviews and feedback I get shape the story as I write it. So please let me know what you think, what you'd change, etc! Everything will be within the Twilight canon and as always, I'm grateful to Stephenie Meyer's for allowing her readers to fill out the world she created._

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><p><strong>Hold On<strong>

**Chapter 1 - Not A Nun**

My heart was racing. Was I really going to do this? My legs pulled against the tangle of blankets and slipped off the couch onto the carpet. My hands were pushing me up until I was sitting on the edge of the couch breathing hard. He was going to kill me. But Kate's words were ringing in my ears, louder than my fear.

It was drizzling outside. The world covered in mist. This whole thing was surreal. It wasn't me. I shouldn't be doing this. But…abruptly, I stood up, careful to not let the blankets fall on the still cluttered coffee table. Through the big curtained front window, the streetlamp bounced shadows around the room as I moved toward the darkened hallway.

"Just breathe," I whispered to myself. "Just go down the hallway, open the door, and get into the bed."

I'd done this a million times. Why was I so nervous now? The indignation of my five-year-old self floated back to me suddenly and I smiled, relaxing a little as I crept slowly forward. Any time it would thunder storm, any time the dog would wake me up, anytime I felt like it really, I would sneak out of my house, holey pink blanket in hand, and walk the two blocks over to Quil's house. I never liked sleeping by myself when I was little. Crawling into Quil's bed was so much cozier.

Usually he would be there, but some nights his bed would be empty when I made my spontaneous entrance. On these nights, my disappointed pout would quickly turn into a wailing siren loud enough to draw one of the pack over, or to wake up Embry in the next room over if he was at home. As soon as I saw one of the pack come in, I knew Quil would be back soon, but I still kept up my irrational fit until he came in. After a year of so of that, mom, dad, and Quil, had all decided that I could come over to his house once a week, on Friday nights only, for a sleepover. It would save all of them an early heart attack.

That tradition had stuck. But now, eight years later, I was sleeping on the couch; now my dad made a face anytime it was Friday night and saw me heading over to Quil's house; and now my so-called friends were talking continually about boys and how unfair it was that they couldn't date yet.

Last Monday, Kate had apparently decided it was Pick On Claire Day because she teased me that I couldn't understand what she and my other friends were going through because I never did anything wrong, that I wasn't interested in boys or being kissed. And then everyone laughed because I didn't know what I was missing. That's when they started calling me a nun. I've been "The Nun" all week.

Anger filled me with determination. I was the opposite of a nun. I had been freaking engaged, betrothed, whatever, to Quil, since I was two-years-old. I didn't need their little flirtatious games and dramatic stories. I had a real life already. I opened the door slowly and saw Quil somewhat sprawled over his bed, lying on his stomach, his pillow pushed out from under his head, snoring the deep sleep of an overworked shape-shifting werewolf. Going over to one side of his massive King size bed, and squeezing myself into the upper corner of it, I curled around his abandoned pillow, and let my breathing settle down, watching Quil.

He was wonderful; I was so lucky to have him. Of course, I had had fantasies about when we were older, or rather, when I was older. We would walk down the beach together holding hands. We would cuddle on the couch and watch movies. He would rub my back and run his massive hands all the way down my waist length hair, like Jared always did to Kim, as we listened to stories at the bonfires.

But then my face twisted at the sour image of Kate talking about kissing boys. I didn't want to kiss Quil. I couldn't even imagine wanting to kiss him. It would be weird. And thinking about his body, that was even weirder. Sure he had lots of muscles, but all the pack boys did, as far as I could tell. They just looked that way. I couldn't understand how all the girls went on and on about how cute he and the other guys were. I don't think I had ever found a boy cute. I mean, I guess, Quil had a nice smile. But he was just Quil, my imprint.

An imprint that would probably be pretty mad when he woke up and found me in here. I smiled again as the same memory hit me. I remembered him storming around his room, wringing his hands in the air, to emphasize that it was NOT okay for me to sneak out of my house. My five-year-old self would be giggling and bouncing on the bed, not listening to a word he said, and then when he would get close enough, I would launch myself off the bed and into his arms.

I must have fallen asleep lost in memories, because the next thing I knew the bed sunk down and sprung back up as Quil flew out of it and away from me.

"Claire! What are you doing in here? Claire wake up."

The loss of warmth was disappointing. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter wanting to savor the last couple moments of a night spent sleeping with Quil.

"Claire!" He had crouched down next to the bed. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for me to open mine.

Adrenaline suddenly twisted my stomach. Yeah, he wasn't happy with me.

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><p><em>AN: Reviews?<em>


	2. Volcanoes Erupt

**Chapter 2 – Volcanoes Erupt**

"Morning." I tried without much conviction.

"Claire, what are you doing in here?" Quil stood up abruptly, incredulous. "And in my bed?"

"I woke up in the night. I couldn't get back to sleep," I replied lamely.

"So you wake me up! You don't crawl into my bed." He began pacing around the room. Horror washing over his features. This wasn't good. "Jeez, Claire, you do realize I'm going to have to tell your parents."

Wait, what? "Tell my parents?"

"Yes! The pack is obviously going to find out, which means Emily will find out, and I'm not going to ask Emily to lie to her sister."

"Lie? Clam down Quil. You're overreacting."

"Argh! Your parents trust me Claire. You don't think I'm about to keep them in the dark."

I swung my feet off the bed, just a bit indignant. I thought he was _my_ imprint. Why did he always feel like he had to include my parents in every little thing?

"Whatever, Quil," I mumbled, and looked toward the door, ready to make my escape. Embarrassment was descending quickly. I just wanted to be alone. But then I felt his hand on my shoulder, spinning me around to face him.

"Claire, what's wrong? I don't understand what happened here."

"I don't know. It was dumb okay. Just forget about it. It won't happen again."

He studied my face a moment. I have no idea what he was looking for, but he smiled slightly before wrapping his arm around my shoulder and leading me out of his bedroom.

"Come on. I'll make you breakfast," he said.

All through breakfast and on the way back to my house, Quil joked around like his normal self. My chagrin hummed only quietly in the background, as I realized that the events of last night hadn't done any lasting damage. Or so I thought.

Before going into my house, his tone suddenly turned serious. "Claire, we are going to have to tell your parents what happened."

"What! Nothing happened. What do you mean we have to tell them!"

"It's up to you if you'd like to tell them yourself. But otherwise, I'm going to right now."

I was mortified and wouldn't even look at Quil. Making a beeline for my room, I left Quil to take care of whatever moral obligations he felt he owed my family. "_My _imprint," I chanted in my head. Mine.

Suddenly my mother's voice hit the rafters. "Claire Atah Keen! Get down here right now!"

Oh my gosh. This was so not happening to me. I moved in slow motion, getting the first inklings of an out of body experience as I watched my feet move down the hall and toward the stairs. The rest of me wanted nothing more than to stay safely hidden in the oversize chair in the corner of my room, and possibly die of mortification.

I saw Quil perched on the edge of the couch opposite my parents, as my feet hit the bottom step and I peered around the corner. He turned to look at me but I wouldn't look at him. I didn't look at any of them. I just stood there on the edge of the living room, within arms reach of the front door; emotionally cringing, waiting for my volcano mother to explode. Thank goodness I was a good runner.

My father surprised me by beating my mother to the punch. "So Claire," he closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Quil has been giving us some troubling news."

This was worse than my mother screaming. Watching my dad, like he was actually in pain thinking about what Quil had told him, devastated me. All I wanted to do was run to my dad and tell him I was sorry. Suddenly there wasn't enough oxygen. My lungs constricted, throat tightened, nose stung, vision blurred in tears. The living room felt like it had turned into a canyon. There was no way to close it, fill it, cross it now even if I had wanted to. I just stood there on the edge, devastated.

"Claire, we'd like to know what happened," my father tried again when he saw I wasn't responding.

But the volcano blew just then. "You better believe we want to know what happened! What in the world would possess you to get into his bed, Claire? You're not five anymore! We thought you were more responsible than this! You will not be going to Quil's house ever again!"

My mom was prone to ever higher-pitched exaggeration when she got going. I had seen her in action with my older sister whenever she walked in after curfew.

But I couldn't hear her words. The chasm that had suddenly formed between me and my parents, a chasm that seemed to even separate me from Quil now, was still all that I could see.

"Claire." My dad's voice grew a bit in volume now.

"I don't know." I mumbled back.

"Claire, can you just give us a clue. Obviously you're confused. But your parents need something here. I need something." Quil reached his hand toward me.

Confused didn't begin to cover it. I took a step away from the edge of the chasm that had formed in my living room. It helped clear my head. I studied Quil's hand and debated briefly trying to explain what had happened at school. But they weren't going to understand. What was I supposed to say? _Kate had been teasing me that I wasn't interested in boys and seriously Quil, I'm not interested in you that way. But I needed a story to tell my friends and I didn't want to lie so I got in your bed. Well, and actually a part of me really does wish I could curl up next to you, and hold your hand at the bonfires._ Yeah, that explanation would go over wonderfully. They would just freak out about hormones and peer pressure; and ugh, why can't they just leave me alone to figure out my own life? This was crazy. Nothing, when you think about it, had actually happened!

"Look, I just, I don't know. It's a misunderstanding. It's nothing. Seriously, not a big deal," I replied a little piqued now.

Quil dropped his hand.

My dad sighed.

My mom spewed, "You better believe it's a big deal. You are too young to have that sort of relationship with Quil.

That sort of relationship with Quil? Yes, I officially was dying of embarrassment now.

But my mom had just gotten going. "You will only spend time together with supervision. You will limit your time together to one day a week, and only on weekends, and only if you have all your homework done-"

Homework? Really? When had I not done my homework. I was good Claire, nice Claire. I couldn't help but smile just slightly at the picture my mom seemed to suddenly have of me in her head.

"-and you will," but then she abruptly stopped. Her expression became irate. "Why are you smiling, Claire? Do you think this is funny?"

No, I didn't. This was beyond awful. But another part of me thought this was hilarious. Call it teenage angst, I don't know, but I surprised even myself and burst out laughing, hysterically. I couldn't stop. The more I thought about it the funnier it was.

"Claire you will stop this right now," my mother yelled.

I just waved one hand at her trying to tell her okay, while clutching my stomach with the other one. "I'm sorry," I managed to choke out. And then I just left the house. I had to.

I couldn't believe how blown out of proportion everything had gotten. And of course I couldn't ignore the irony of it all. I had wanted to prove to Kate and the others that I was no different than they were except that I didn't need their little games and drama. I had Quil already. No dramatic scenes of misunderstanding needed.

Yeah, right, I thought bitterly. That's all I have: dramatic scenes. The one person who should totally be here right now so I can tell him how far crazy my mom had suddenly gone, was in fact in my living room buddying up to her and my dad, ardently agreeing with them apparently, on how to control teenage Claire.

Argh! I paced along the familiar path to the cliff overlooking First Beach. I could see some boys from my class throwing a frisbee back and forth and caught myself wondering what it would be like to be normal, to be one of those girls like Kate that would be savoring their every move, making the scene juicier than it really was, working up a story to tell on Monday to the captive hallway audience, surrounding her locker.

But then I heard the bushes rustle behind me. I turned in time to see an acrobatic angel go flipping off the back of an enormous wolf.

Kate could keep her stories. Mine were much more interesting.

"Hey Nessie."

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><p><em>AN<em>: Thank you for the reviews! Feedback on this chapter? Was the internal dialogue too heady, not realistic for a 13-year-old girl to be thinking?


	3. Grownup Friends Suck

****_AN: Has it really been since October that I last updated! I'm so sorry! The holidays, birthdays, no internet access, all lame excuses! I'm sorry. Thank you for all the reviews. I love them and they keep the story on my mind._

_Also, I'm assuming that after Quil imprinted, Claire's family moved from Makah to La Push. Maybe we'll find out why in later chapters. If not, just chalk it up to the imprint. :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 3 – Grownup Friends Suck<strong>

Nessie sauntered over to me reprovingly. "We heard drama was going down at the Keen home this morning, which I assume is why you're out here all alone."

"Yeah, way too much drama," and then my mood turned depressed again. "Everyone has gone crazy. Or maybe just I have. I don't know."

Nessie grabbed my shirtsleeve and tugged me over to Jake who was waiting for us still in his wolf form. "Come on Claire. Let's go for a ride. I want to hear what happened."

She got on Jake's back and waited for me to do the same.

"I'm not promising anything Ness," I said as I got on behind her. "Besides I'm sure Quil has shown Jake everything anyway." I looked at Jake pointedly daring him to disagree.

Jake barked a chuckle and Nessie just smiled at me, not letting me off the hook. "I want to hear it anyway. It's been forever since I've gotten to spend the day with my slow-growing friend."

"Slow-growing! Not all of us can skip right over childhood. Where are we going anyway?"

She lightly touched my hand and a swimming hole appeared. A small waterfall was pouring into it in the background. There were two girls splashing in the water. One looked young, no older than eight, and the other one looked like she could have been my age now, thirteen. But it wasn't me. It was Nessie, about five years ago. I was the younger one in the water. I remembered this day she was showing me. Quil had been there of course, trying to stand up directly under the waterfall, making me laugh when he kept falling down.

"It's a little cold to go swimming today," I said, missing Quil's body heat that always saved me from getting hypothermia whenever I swam.

But then the image shifted slightly to us lying in the sun at the side of the pool all wrapped up in towels. I remembered Quil and Jake wrapping us up like burritos that day after going swimming. They probably had brought twenty towels with them. Nessie had kept unrolling herself seemingly in the air as soon as Jake would let go. Then she would turn to flip me out of my towels just as easily. Quil was screaming at her the whole time to stop spinning me into the air, that I wasn't as indestructible as she was. That had been a good day, and it was comforting to share Nessie's memories of it.

When we reached the swimming hole a few minutes later, it felt as though Nessie's memories had come to life. The moss covered boulders strewn carelessly around the edges of the pool, the waterfall tumbling relentlessly igniting the air in sparkling droplets, even the light of the gray sun trying to find its way through the top of the tree canopy overhead cast the same magical spell over the whole scene before me. Nothing had changed. Except of course, the people. Quil wasn't here and Nessie was an adult now.

Everyone I cared about in my life was an adult. I suddenly felt impatient to grow up, to be able to relate to Nessie again. She had been such a great friend when we were younger but now she was Jake's wife. They had their own house and frequently popped off on some outrageously exotic vacation for the weekend. I couldn't imagine how the concerns of middle school could possibly interest her. It barely interested me.

"So you're hopelessly in love with Quil?" Nessie perched on one of the boulders waiting expectantly for me to join her.

"What! No!" I gaped aghast, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I shot a look back at Jake who was failing miserably at trying to make himself inconspicuous by lounging near the edge of the trees.

"Jake, you're not fooling anybody. I feel like there's a hidden camera on me, hanging out with you as a wolf. If Quil wants to watch my every move, he should be here himself."

Jake cocked his head quizzically, and whined.

"Ugh, Jake!" I rolled my eyes at him fed up; "I don't have patience for wolf sign language right now."

He disappeared a moment and returned laughing. He held up his hands in surrender. "Hey don't get mad at _me_ Claire. _I_ didn't rat you out to your parents." I turned to walk away over to Nessie who was thoroughly enjoying this whole interchange. But then I felt Jake's too big arms picking me up and hugging me tightly. "That's from Quil. He says he wasn't sure whether you would want him around right now or not."

"Whose fault is that? Traitor," I mumbled under my breath but then asked, "Jake, tell me. You ought to know the answer to this. Quil's my imprint, right?"

"Ugh, yeah." Jake looked confused and went to sit with Nessie.

"So as my imprint, he is supposed to know my needs before even I know them, right? He's supposed to support me? Listen to me? Love me, just me, no matter what?"

"Sure. Yeah."

"Well you better let your dad know that he needs to start telling new stories at the next bonfire! Apparently now, wolf imprinting means that you act like your imprint doesn't matter half as much as her parent's rules."

I started pacing, my hands wringing, flexing. I knew I was being unreasonable but it felt good. And what are friends for if not to let you be unreasonable without freaking running to your parents. "I mean, he knows me! Why would he think this is something that he needs to alert my parents to? It was nothing. I just wanted to feel normal, to have something to tell Kate. And no, don't look at me like that Jake. I wasn't about to go share 'pack secrets,'" I waved dramatically in the air at the two of them, looking mystified at my sudden outburst.

"But seriously, do you guys have any idea what it's like to be thirteen. No, of course not, because you were never really thirteen Nessie, and you," I pointed angrily at Jake. Apparently I was using him at my Quil substitute to unleash my wrath, "you are too freaking old to remember. You try to act all silly, cool, play off the fact that you're alpha, but really when it comes to 'responsibility,' to 'rules,' you're the freaking chief."

"Oh my gosh. This is so unfair." My hysterical fit collapsed into the wet mossy dirt and I suddenly just felt like crying. I needed real friends. Friends my age.

Nessie was at my side, leaning slightly against my shoulder, "Hey, you're right, okay. You're completely right. We don't understand."

Her tone disarmed me. I glanced sideways at her but she was gazing up over the tops of the encroaching trees maybe trying to see past them.

I mumbled to the ground. "I didn't do anything Nessie. Kate, this girl at school, was teasing me for not draping myself on the boys in our class the way she and the other girls do. I just wanted to prove that I already had…I just wanted to have something to tell…" Why was this so hard to put into words? "I don't know, maybe I was just curious. It's not like I tried to kiss him or anything." My face felt flushed. To even suggest kissing Quil was so embarrassing.

Nessie took my hand. Pictures of Quil holding me as a little girl, playing with me on the beach, reading books to me; pictures of her and Jacob and me and Quil at bonfires together, watching movies, teasing me while I trained for the 50 yard dash at school; the whole pack at my middle school play when I was Helena in a Midsummer Nights Dream; and then just two weeks ago when Quil, Nessie, and Jacob surprised me with a picnic after-school dessert party under a tree while it poured rain.

"I know it doesn't really help with anything," Nessie added out loud, "especially with things going on at school, but, I just wanted you to know how much we all love you, okay?" She smiled at me in her thoughts and pictured herself giving me a hug.

I squeezed her hand. "Thanks Nessie."

They took me back home a few hours later. It was actually a surprisingly fun afternoon, to be hidden so far away in the middle of the forest, running my hand from time to time over the surface of the freezing pool. I got the latest on the Cullen clan and I caught them up on my older sister, Moira's, most recent scheme to spend the year in Paris by being a foreign exchange student. She had already filled out the Fork's rotary club's application forms. If she got it, she would be the first student ever picked from the reservation. She thought this gave her a better chance since it would look good for them to demonstrate racial and cultural diversity in their selection process.

Jacob phased just before we came within view of the tree line. "Quil wants to talk to you before you go home. It sounds like once you get inside the house, your mom has plans of never letting you back out of it again." Jacob chuckled and leaned in to give me a quick goodbye hug. Nessie kissed me on the cheek.

As they left, they passed Quil who magically appeared from behind a tree. He wasn't alone.

"What is that?" I demanded.

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><p><em>AN: Reviews? Do you want more imagery? Characterization? Less dialogue? Skip it all, just give me the plot?<em>


	4. Another Wolf

_AN: An update! Sorry for the turnaround time! I'm so slow! Reviews do help motivate me though. :)  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter 4 – Another Wolf<strong>

"A peace offering?" Quil replied unsure, slightly shrugging his shoulders, and walking over.

"Yeah right. I hope you're not planning on sacrificing it."

"Oh come on Claire. Don't be mad." The sheepish smile that didn't reach his amused eyes distracted me from being angry. He was sorry. But he was also certain that I would forgive him soon.

He shouldn't be so certain. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows.

"Or at least don't be that mad," he paused and then grinned in spite of himself. It was a grin I knew only too well. It was the grin he wore on Friday nights when we played cards together. It was the grin that meant he was holding the trump card and was about to beat whatever incredible card I had just smugly laid down.

Curiosity cracked my rigid pose. Anticipation flooded my mouth. "What—?" I started to ask but he interrupted me.

"I talked your parents into letting you have a dog!" Triumphant and bursting with as much excitement as the squirming puppy in his hands, Quil held out the wriggling gift for me to take.

"What! You did?" I reached out and took the soft, squishy, jittery creature from his arms. My face was immediately covered with wet-nose nuzzles and sandpaper rough licks. He was so adorable and abruptly my heart was overflowing with emotion. He was mine! I had wanted a dog for so long but my parents were ridiculous clean-freaks and refused to allow, in their words, 'the kind of impact a dog would have on the lawn, the furniture, and general tranquility of the home.' How had Quil managed this one? I looked up at him beaming.

"Well, I told them that dogs and young children are good for unruly teenagers." He smirked mischievously and continued, "So unless they wanted to have another baby, it would be a good idea to give you something else to focus on outside of yourself and your own erratic teenage emotions. It helps with the transition from seeing yourself as the baby in the family to being a grown-up family member with caretaking responsibilities of your own." He could barely hold back the laughter, as my face became a mask of confusion and horror.

I stared at him incredulously. "Quil, how many parenting books have you been reading?" I wanted to keep it light. Not internalize what this meant. But I was starting to panic, furious and depressed at the same time, to think that he was actually seeking professional written help on how to deal with me.

He grabbed the puppy and lifted it to his face, "Ha! Don't give me so much credit, Claire-bear! I was just looking online a few weeks ago on how people have convinced their parents to let them have a dog. One person was talking about pet therapy so I did a Google search on 'teenagers and the benefits of having a pet.' It was great! I found all these psychologists writing stuff about families needing to get a pet after the last baby grows up. But the problem was that you aren't really the classic teenager so I was having a hard time finding the right moment to use the argument on your parents. But then with your little stunt this morning," he paused, still holding the puppy up above his face, and grinned widely at me, "and then completely blowing your parents off afterwards in the living room, it was perfect. They totally latched on to the idea that you need a dog."

Wow. A part of me was awed; impressed that Quil had put so much thought into how to win this argument with my parents. So of course I was grateful. But I fidgeted, stalled to answer. Remembering the scene in the living room this morning from where I stood, it still felt completely wrong. I kept seeing Quil sitting on the couch, on the other side of the living room, on the other side of that impossibly wide abyss that had suddenly formed between me and my parents. I was the kid. They were the grown-ups and Quil was with them.

But he wasn't now. He was with me, on my side. He had even miraculously talked them into giving me what I had been begging for, for years. Was he like this spy going behind enemy lines? Or was his ability to jump back and worth over impossibly wide divides, part of his wolf superpowers? I didn't know what to think. It felt like everything had suddenly changed way too fast. Yesterday had been easy. Now I was…a troubled teenager?

"Hey, Quil, I'm sorry that I walked out on you too."

His expression changed. Worry pinched at his eyebrows and he quickly handed me the puppy, put his arm around me, and led us over to sit down on a fallen log. "Claire, don't apologize! I deserved it! I know it totally sucks to have me running to your parents. But it's what I have to do right now." He sighed, frustrated, resigned. "I'm walking this fine line between having them see me as the most responsible guardian figure in your life, apart from them, AND BEING YOURS. Your imprint. Your best-friend. Your whatever-you-want-me-to-be."

My eyes got bigger. The expression on his face was too intense for my newly unruly teenage heart. So I quickly averted my eyes from his, and hid my blushing cheeks by laying my head against his chest. Impatient, the puppy wriggled out of my arms and jumped off of our laps. But we just sat for a moment silently, enjoying the damp beauty of the forest. "Thanks Quil. Thanks for understanding," I eventually mumbled. "I love you."

"I know you do Claire. I love you too. Hmm…maybe I should do another Google search on 'how to date your very underage imprint without ending up in prison or permanently maimed by her shape-shifting, wolf, uncle?'"

Abruptly my cheeks were on fire and I leaped up off of the log where we were sitting. "What? No, I….I'm not…I mean, I'm…This morning wasn't…"

Quil laughed and held his hands up in surrender. "Calm down! I was kidding. Joking!"

I looked at him unsure. Was he joking? Did he expect or think that I wanted something different from our relationship? I watched the puppy dart around my legs, perplexed.

Quil got up and came over. "Whoa, seriously, slow down there Claire-bear. Nothing's changed, okay?" Then turning me around to start walking through the trees, away from my house, he went on, "In fact, really nothing has changed. Your parents were so freaked out this morning by you and so impressed by me," he winked at me and I rolled my eyes, "that even though you're grounded, I'm allowed to come over whenever I want to. They did put an end to you spending the night, though." He shrugged. "It kind of sucks but we can just play cards and watch movies at your house instead on Friday nights, right?"

That was good. I was worried my mom might have gotten her way and kept me from seeing Quil for a while. I don't think I had ever gone more than two days since I was a toddler without seeing him. But I kept silent. Even if he was only joking before, it still had my mind spinning out of control. A part of me didn't want him to be joking. The other part was terrified.

After a minute, Quil bumped my shoulder. "Relax, will you? Hey, what are we going to name this dog, anyway?"

The puppy was still nipping away at our legs while we walked. I bent over and picked him up and handed him to Quil. "How about Wolf?"

"Wolf, huh? You already have one you know."

"Yeah, I can start my own pack." I grinned.

"Funny, Claire. Come on. Let's go get a bag of dog food for your little Wolf and then we can take you guys home."

But Wolf had other ideas as soon as he saw the waves splashing on the rocks at First Beach. Bounding over, he played with the tide as it encroached onto the shore and then receded. We picked up rocks and threw them for him to go fetch. But he was still too much a puppy to remember that he was supposed to go get the rocks we threw. It ended up just being a game for him to pounce into the pebbles and bury his nose into the sandy, rocky, beach.

A flock of seagulls were hopping together in the surf a little ways off, enjoying the last rays of the setting sun. When Wolf saw one of them take off flying into the air, he went berserk and started yipping and running wildly toward them. Suddenly all of them were flying and squawking in the air. It was a hilarious sight to see Wolf jumping up, trying to get the birds to come back down and play with him or maybe all his jumping was actually an attempt to see if he could fly up to the birds himself.

Some boys who had been playing football nearby stopped to watch too. I didn't know them, though they looked my age. They were probably kids from Forks down for the day. I knew some of the kids at the middle school there from track but none of these boys looked familiar. Pretty soon they had abandoned their game in favor of throwing their ball back and forth for Wolf. Once it landed just inside the surf but Wolf had refused to go try to get it, for fear of getting wet. No matter how they urged him forward, he ended up just yipping and whining away from the creeping tide.

"Hey, I like your dog!" One of the boys called out to us.

"Yeah, thanks." I called back.

"He's scared of the water." The boy began walking toward us. He had a goofy haircut and seemed oblivious the fact that his pants were all wet from playing with Wolf.

"Looks like it." I replied lamely.

"Hey, do you live here? In La Push?"

"Yeah." I said glancing at Quil.

"Oh cool. I live in Forks."

I waited for him to say something else but then his face got confused and he smiled and said, "Well, I guess I'll see you around then."

After he was out of earshot I turned to Quil, "That was weird."

"He just thinks your pretty. Give him a break."

"What! How did you get pretty from that?"

"He's young."

"He's my age!"

Quil grinned. "Exactly."

I shoved at his arm but his grin only got wider. "It looks like you have your Monday morning hallway-locker-story for Kate now."

I looked at him incredulously, feeling my face heat up. Was he implying…? A strange mix of feeling flattered, excited, maybe even a little embarrassed…a boy my age had actually flirted with me on First Beach! Quil just laughed at my changing expression. But he was right. For Kate, this would make a very good story.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Reviews, please? Was the dog thing lame? Kind of like Quil's google research said, I was hoping that it would be this character that made Claire older because the scenes that follow are sort of like Quil and Claire as this couple talking while their toddler kid (i.e. the puppy) runs around and plays. Or maybe the puppy serves as the metaphor for Claire's confusion - constantly jumping in and out of Quil's arms. :) <em>


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